


Collectors of Despair

by AnnieGrimmons101



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Babies, Canon Era, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapped Merlin (Merlin), M/M, Merlin Multiples, Multi, Orgy, Other, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Restraints, Sad with a Happy Ending, Vomiting, Whump, arthur kills a man, seriously like hundreds of Merlins for Arthur to worry about, there's no banter or nothin just arthur being anxious and sad, this isn't fun man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:08:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26378575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieGrimmons101/pseuds/AnnieGrimmons101
Summary: Merlin's gone missing and Arthur's prepared to spend a hundred lifetimes looking for him.He finds more than one.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 70





	Collectors of Despair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Victoria_Volkov](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victoria_Volkov/gifts).



> im early for whumptober lol
> 
> I have a Patreon! Come support me for $1/month if you like my stuff @ https://www.patreon.com/worldbuildingwithannie

On the hill in front of them, a massive fortress made of dark stone loomed, blocking the setting sun from view and seeming to turn the world black with its very presence. It wasn't nearly half the size of Camelot Castle, but even that was still huge, and something about it reeked torment and fear. Prince Arthur was not particularly keen on approaching, even with twelve of his best Knights by his side. But he had no choice. The locals had not understood the common tongue, but when shown a drawing of Merlin done by Sir Gareth, they pointed grimly to the fortress above them on the hill. 

There were no guards outside it, no one at the gates to bar them from entering. Arthur watched his Knights boost one of their own over the wall to open it from the inside. According to the youngest, lightest knight, who had been tossed over, the gears to the gate were old and rusted beyond turning. He couldn't move the wheel. 

"Can you find us another way in?" It was Leon who asked it. Arthur had been more or less silent throughout the journey, his mouth set in a grim line. He was determined to bring Merlin home. Merlin's captor would die at his hands. 

"There looks to be a smaller gate on the side!" The knight called back, pointing along the wall. "It looks more recently used. I'll see if I can open that one!" He was already jogging along the parapets towards it. Arthur and his men followed along on horseback. With a bit of willpower and no small amount of muscle, that gate slowly but surely creaked open. Sir Bors went through first to help the smaller knight hold the gate open, as he was the biggest and burliest and the portcullis seemed fit to smash back down on their heads. 

Arthur set his horse at a gallop into the main courtyard of the dark citadel. Grasses and wildflowers grew out of the cracked stones underneath them. Metal braziers scattered around the yard were rusted over, and the small well had long since lost its bucket. Sir Leon rode up to one of the fire pits and, to everyone's surprise, called out, "Sire! Someone's been here recently! There's fresh coals in this one!" 

The Prince was barely listening. He dismounted Hengroen and started up the steps of the citadel, yanking hard on the door. It swung open without a care. It seemed its hinges were freshly oiled. Inside the building, however, was black as night. Arthur had no torch, but stepped inside. A trickle of dread ran up his spine when he crossed the threshold; he feared what could be left of Merlin in a place like this. 

His men dismounted as well and followed him inside, a few of them fumbling the walls for a torch. Arthur walked with one hand on his blade, ready to strike at anything that sprang from the darkness. The stones under his feet were uneven, making his steps seem stuttered and uneasy, and the further he advanced, the more uneasy he became. He wanted to call out for Merlin, but he knew how foolish that would be, so he remained silent and listened. And then he heard something. A slight patter like the hastening of bare feet. 

Arthur's sword was drawn before he even registered the sound. "Who's there?" he demanded. "Declare yourself." He heard the jangle of a chain, and at the same time, heard a knight lighting up a torch. In the sudden light, a figure could be seen brandishing a length of crude chain like a weapon. It was small and slender, with long dark hair and an oversized dress that masked its hunger-pang frame. And then, like lightning, it bolted away into the shadows. Every knight gave chase without even a signal from their Prince. 

And then, upon losing the game of chase, they found the Room. 

On a carved wooden bench, shrouded in darkness, was a small, pale figure. A few unlit torches sat on the walls, and the one knight with a torch lit them up. The first thing Arthur saw was the glisten of a woman's wet. She was tied on her back, knees tucked up and hands chained below the bench, her holes loosened and exposed. Arthur neared her side, and found a face so impossibly akin to Merlin's that it made his heart stop. Her swollen breasts bounced as she squirmed away from him, her blue eyes pinching shut. 

Not wanting to break the suffocating silence, Arthur motioned for one of the men to find the keys and free the poor girl. He ventured further into the room, frankly petrified of what else he might find in this horrible prison. An archway into hell sat on the opposite side of the room. Arthur took a torch to light his way. What he found sent chills into his very soul. 

Cages and cages of Merlins lined the walls, hung from the ceiling, sat abandoned on the floor. There could have easily been hundreds, but Arthur's head was spinning too hard to count. Each one was Merlin, and yet not quite him; a smaller nose here, a rounder face there, a smaller stature in this cage, darker eyes in that one... It was horrifying. But Arthur knew he couldn't leave a single one behind, not when Merlin's precious face peered out of every cage. He would release each and every prisoner if it took him a year. 

Each as naked as the day they were born, the Merlin-alikes cowered at the Knights' entry, seeming to shrink in their skin to become invisible. Arthur's knees felt weak, but he had to start somewhere. He started with one of the cages on the floor, which held a young boy who looked so like Merlin it made his eyes moisten. His eyes were a beautiful blue, his hair dark and curled, his body long and lithe, his cock small and pink. Arthur unlocked his cage, though the key burnt his hand, and gently lifted the boy out. He was so, so Merlin... But alas, he did not know his Prince's face. 

"Easy, easy," whispered one of the Knights, taking the boy from Arthur and wrapping a cloak around him. He scrambled to escape despite the gentle treatment he was afforded. Bile rose up in Arthur's throat as he thought of what must have been done to all of these lovely Merlins before he arrived. That cage now empty, the Prince tossed it to a knight to get it out of his way; he wouldn't be able to walk through the room if he didn't start moving them aside once shelled. The next Merlin was no more trusting than the last. His hair was long and wavy, his eyes a brilliant sea green, his stature small, his little prick a soft shade of pink just like his kin. Arthur pulled him free, dried his cheeks of tears, and handed him off to a knight.

As Bors moved the cage, Arthur stepped up to the next one, which held a girl with grey eyes, a smaller nose, pert breasts, a rounder face, and, of course, a vulva rather than a prick. He picked her up, held her close, told her that everything was alright now, and handed her off to be cared for by one of his men. 

There were boys, girls, hermaphrodites, girls with three holes, girls with four and five holes, girls with two clits, boys who had been gelded and boys who hadn't, ones with piercings, ones with body paint, ones well-fed and ones with ribs poking through, ones who were eight months pregnant and ones with tiny baby bumps. There was even one with pure white hair and pink eyes. Not one of them was Arthur's Merlin. 

Even with only twelve Knights and dozens upon dozens of cages to empty, they made quick work of it, collecting all the delicate little Merlins in the courtyard as Arthur looked for the boy who was His. He couldn't find Merlin anywhere. No matter how hard he looked, Merlin was not to be found. Each one was just not quite right. 

There were so many prisoners, Leon pulled out a parchment and began to document them to make sure they didn't lose any on the trip back to Camelot. He began to line them up and organize them the same way Arthur had been in his head - their differences to the real Merlin. Arthur would go over the list once he was done, as there was no way of knowing how many there would be until he had freed each and every one. And he would free them all if it took the rest of his life. He refused to leave them here like this. 

Arthur and his Knights worked methodically, unlocking cages and passing off their occupants to be carried down to the courtyard, then moving the cages aside and repeating. There was only one set of keys, which meant Arthur did all the unlocking. He worked relentlessly out of pure anger at whatever semblance of a man could have done this. He worked out of selflessness and devotion to finding his friend. He worked... he worked out of love.

He'd never even told Merlin he loved him. 

Sir Gareth took the keys from him; he needed to go throw up. 

ooOo0O0oOoo

The Knights worked from dusk straight through to dawn, freeing captives and doing their best to make them comfortable before they could be brought home. Only once every single cramped, rusted little box was empty did they allow themselves to rest. Arthur, having gotten his emotions somewhat under control, went down to the courtyard to see how things were coming along. He stopped short at all the warm, naked bodies sprawled on the flagstones. Due to the monotony of the mass rescue, it hadn't really struck him yet just how many people he had saved. 

A young, heavily pregnant girl was curled in on herself, crying from pain. Arthur found himself at her side, trying his best to comfort her. As a man with no medical knowledge, he felt less than useless. He figured she would go into labour soon. One of the Knights who was more versed in the nature of childbirth took over, and Arthur was guided to a place by a small campfire. 

"You must rest, sire," insisted the men. Arthur shook his head.

"I won't rest until I find him."

Sir Leon appeared from behind Arthur and gently sat him down on a sleeping mat. "You're fit to fall over, sire," he said softly, as another knight handed Arthur a chunk of smoked venison. "You won't be able to find him if you can't see straight. Let us look for a while." 

And look they did, valiantly, until Arthur had eaten his cold meat and hard bread and had taken a short nap besides. He felt much refreshed and was eager to try another search for Merlin. 

It appeared he had arrived at the perfect time, as the second he caught up with the majority of his Knights, they called out, "Sire! You're not going to believe this!" 

Children. Merlin-babies. Some in cribs with tops that locked, some piled in cages in the fours and fives, and some simply roaming free, lost and confused. Arthur broke the lock on the door that separated him from them, and nearly flung the door off its hinges in his haste to get it open. Every child in the room panicked at his entry, fleeing to the far corners of their individual confinements so as to escape from Arthur and his Knights. 

Leon caught the first one, a naked little boy who couldn't have been six years old. He handed him to Sir Gareth, who began the front of the chain down to the courtyard. Luckily, there weren't nearly as many young ones as there were adults, and Arthur made short work clearing the room. 

The last one was an infant, a baby girl, barely a few weeks old. She fit in Arthur's hand. He wrapped her gently in his cloak and began to carry her down to the yard himself. 

None of the poor girls had had enough contact with their children to know which was theirs and which wasn't. This left all the young ones basically orphaned. Arthur's baby girl, however, everyone seemed to know. He asked who the mother was, but of course, just like the people in town, the freed folk didn't speak the common tongue. He began to just hold out the girl to anyone who could have borne a child until someone corrected this behaviour.

"Jadn oer mirra keddo," said a young girl, and when Arthur looked at her, she wrapped a hand around her own throat and rolled her eyes back. 

The mother had been strangled to death. 

Leaving the baby in the care of Sir Galahad, Arthur turned back to the citadel for another go. Merlin had to be in there somewhere. Arthur would find him if it took him a thousand years. 

ooOo0O0oOoo

After hours of fruitless search, Arthur began to lose hope. Each room was damaged and empty, holding nothing but dust bunnies. He and his Knights cleared room after room, finding no more people in any of them, until the top floor. 

Ethereal Merlins were chained to the walls and propped up so whatever monster holding them here would have the optimal angles at their holes. Arthur took down each one of them himself, most of whom were unconscious, and instructed the Knights to carry them down to the courtyard and nurse them back to health as best they could. He carried on alone, going from room to room to room, leaving in his wake many poor, abused Not-Merlins for the Knights to find. He unlocked them, of course, and pointed the way out to those who were awake and alert, but Arthur couldn't stop searching; Merlin had already been missing too damn long. 

Loud, awful laughter rang through the empty hallways, followed by a shrill cry. Arthur drew his sword and darted at the sound, seeing nothing but red. He knew that voice. That was Merlin. That was his Merlin. The Prince flung himself at a heavy wooden door, crashing straight through it, and happened upon...

Well, it might have been an orgy at one point. Men and cups and ale were spilt throughout the room. Most of the men were out cold, but some of them seemed genuinely dead. Arthur didn't bother to check. In the centre of the room was a boy with a pink cock and long legs and shaggy black curls and  _ stupid  _ big ears and--

"Merlin!"

He was bruised from head to toe, his bottom lip split from the assault done to him, his whole body racked with heaving breaths like he could barely get enough air to survive. Arthur blinked away tears and gathered Merlin, his Merlin, into his arms. 

"I've got you, Merlin, I've got you. I'm here. No one's ever going to hurt you again. I promise." Merlin couldn't hear him. He couldn't muster the strength to do much more than keep his heart beating. Arthur sheathed his sword and bundled Merlin in his own cloak to bear him away from that awful place. 

"Never again, Merlin," whispered Arthur as he carried his little servant to the door. One of the men began to stir, and the Prince stepped on his filthy neck. 

"Never again." 


End file.
